Starting Out As The God of Beasts

Roy was nowhere to be found.

He had exited the city, venturing into the unforgiving desert.

He breathed a sigh of relief. ”It’s good to see all my efforts weren’t in vain.” Roy smiled.

”Status window.” He wasted no time checking out his personal details.

[Player’s Data has been updated]

-Name: Varanus

-Status: False God (Level 3)

-Divine Domain: Ruler of Beasts

-Divine Authority: Transformation, Mindcraft

-Follower Count: 3256/10,000

-Divine Essence: 100

-Faith Points: 5378 FP

-Divine Honorifics: Registered

”I’ve made some progress.” Roy stood proud. His follower count was now in the thousands, not hundreds anymore.

And his Faith Points had increased tremendously.

”My first level up came after I named myself. My second level up arrived after I gained my first follower.”

”This time, there must be some unknown mechanism that triggered another level up.” Roy lingered, ”Probably it’s after I got a thousand followers.” He smirked.

”Out of my five thousand, three hundred and seventy eight Faith Points, three thousand, six hundred and fifty six came from my followers”

”The rest are from the lives taken by my followers” he inhaled deeply.

He raised his head, staring into the scorching sun. ”I’m tempted to dive into the Divine Market, but I don’t have the time for that yet.”

”I need to solidify my authority over Tempest City before an evil god comes to ruin it.” He turned his head.

He could see the grand walls of Tempest City from the distance.

Just as Roy requested, Tiger Lord Manuses would be having a private meeting with Alpha Eurenia, Alisa, and Elder Croak.

These are followers who had received divine blessings from the God of Beasts, Lord Varanus.

They all have their roles to play.

[Ding!]

The status window shimmered before Roy’s eyes.

[Accessing Target’s Faith]

[Faith Status: Dedicated]

[Your Dedicated Follower: Manuses Ryodor has completed all qualifications to receive your divine blessing]

[Would you like to deploy a divine blessing?]

[Yes] [No]

”Interesting.” Roy gently stroked his chin. ”To think the faithless Tiger Lord now has all the qualifications to be blessed by me.” His lips curled faintly.

”But there’s no need to rush.” Roy sighed, ”I need to check him out before I make my decision.”

Roy wasted no time transforming into a sun-fly; he flew towards the city.

As ordered by Lord Manuses, the lockdown on Tempest City wasn’t lifted.

Only the Great Luna Pack and the black-spotted Frogmen were granted access into the city.

Slaves were being released into the city; the people of the city were celebrating.

Alpha Eurenia handled the freed slaves while Alisa went to search for her Rabbit-kin who remained in the slave pens.

Mana cores from Orcs, Goblins, and Trolls were being harvested by both the vanguard of the Tiger Lord and the Great Luna Pack.

Everyone else remained in the sealed Tempest City.

No one was allowed to come into the city or leave the city without the permission of the Tiger Lord.

***

The grand obsidian office was entirely hollow now, stripped of the frantic military reports and the lingering stench of Orc blood.

Outside the panoramic window, the unified, thousands-voiced prayer of Tempest City was fading into a low, vibrating hum that shook the very bedrock of the fortress.

But inside the sanctum, there was only the sound of a broken tiger lord.

Lord Manuses, the fierce, scarred tyrant who had held the volcanic canyon under an iron grip for decades, was on his knees.

The heavy, floor-length coat of golden sun-spider silk lay pooled around him on the dark floorboards like spilled fluid fire, its brilliant luster mocking the absolute desperation wracking his massive frame.

His clawed hands, still stained with the dark soot of the mid-ring skirmishes, were gripped tightly together.

He slammed his forehead flat against the cold stone right beside the fractured leviathan skull desk, his broad shoulders heaving under the weight of a suffocating, unbearable silence from the heavens.

”I have done everything...” Manuses rasped, his deep, predatory voice cracking into a ragged, desperate whimper. ”I tore down their banners... I executed their captains... I led my people into the light of the spirit language... Why? Why do you turn your back on me, O Great One?”

Heavy, hot tears spilled from his amber eyes, cutting clean lines through the ash and dried blood caked onto his fierce, weathered face.

They dripped steadily onto the dark obsidian floor, splashing right where the system had previously slammed down its cold, unyielding rejection.

For over six decades, he had lived in absolute terror of the western altars, carrying the crushing guilt of sacrificing his own bestial kin just to buy his royal lineage another day of breath.

He had finally taken the leap.

He had betrayed the Troll King.

He had crossed the point of no return—and yet, the divine presence had walked away.

”Please...” the Tiger Lord wept openly, his thick tail slamming weakly against the masonry in a gesture of absolute, unmitigated submission.

”Do not leave my people to be kindling for the west. I was weak. I was a coward who held a tiger by the tail... but I have redeemed myself!” his heart raced.

”I have cleansed the armories! I have freed the pens! O Lord Varanus... Father of the Feral Domain... I beg of you... give this old hound a single chance!”

The air inside the room didn’t just turn cold—it completely stilled.

The ambient pressure of the volcanic valley vanished in a fraction of a millisecond, replaced by a dense, suffocating weight that filled every corner of the massive office without making a single sound.

From the absolute center of the dark obsidian floor, right beneath the golden rays of the midday sun, space itself faintly distorted.

A soft, localized hum of golden-crimson mana particles swirled upward from the floorboards like a nest of embers.

Roy materialized out of thin air.

He stood perfectly upright, his hands casually remaining in the pockets of his clean, tailored black coat.

His dual-colored golden-crimson eyes gleamed with a dangerous, ancient light in the dimness of the sanctum, looking down at the weeping, broad-shouldered warlord with a lofty, predatory smile written across his face.

”Your weeping is quite loud, Tiger Lord,” Roy spoke smoothly, his level voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room like a honed blade.

”Y-You’re Jarden Rome?” Lord Manuses raised his head to see the mysterious, handsome wolf-man standing before him.

”Sure.” A lofty grin escaped Roy’s lips. ”You did well, Tiger Lord.” He stepped forward, approaching the mahogany desk.

”You have proven your faith by slaughtering the forces of the Troll King.” Roy placed his hands on the table, slightly bending his back.

He stared directly into the eyes of the Tiger Lord, ”You’ll be rewarded for your dedication towards the foundation of the God of Beasts’ Church.”

”Church?” Lord Manuses raised an eyebrow.

”Yes, Church,” Roy smirked..

”The once infamous Tempest City has been cleansed of its filth. Now it will be made the holy land of Lord Varanus.”

”Here will his holy church be built. Tempest City will rise to become the strongest city in the Hudeii Desert,” Roy stated.

Lord Manuses’ eyes flickered, ”T-This is magnificent.” The Tiger Lord was struggling to suppress his excitement.

”I’m honored to build the Church of Lord Varanus. I’ll make it the biggest to ever exist,” Lord Manuses bragged.

”Not so fast.” Roy’s voice echoed through the room, the air rippling.

”Are you ready to receive your god’s divine blessing, Tiger Lord Manuses?”